


Slow Dance to Rock Music

by sequence_fairy



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: He thinks that next time, he might make sure to put white sheets on the bed, and wake her up as the sun rises and watch the way it turns her hair into a halo while she rises over him.





	Slow Dance to Rock Music

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pellaaearien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pellaaearien/gifts).



> Written for a tumblr prompt. I told Pella this would turn into 3k of smut, and it has. <3

When he finally gets the Detective into his bed, it’s nothing like he thought it would be - mostly because they aren’t actually in his bed (yet) and also because Chloe does the getting. Now, he should clarify - there is absolutely nothing wrong with her doing the getting, or with the getting happening against the wall of the elevator on the way up to the penthouse, but he did really rather want to spread her across his bed and fuck her six ways from Sunday and then another time for good measure–

“Shut up,” Chloe says, as she grinds her pelvis against his thigh.

“I didn’t say anything,” Lucifer protests. He didn’t. Did he? Chloe licks a line of kisses up the side of his neck to his ear and coherent thought stutters to a stop again. She’s warm and in his arms, and wearing a dress that had made all of the pertinent parts of him come to attention as soon as she’d stepped down the stairs into the club.  

“You’re thinking too much,” Chloe says, her voice a husk against his ear. “I can tell.”  The dress has hiked almost all the way up past her hips and her legs are long and lean and Lucifer knew this, he did, he’s seen those naked legs before, just like he’s seen everything else, but it’s different now that he’s allowed to touch, allowed feel the muscle tone and the delicious friction of her skin against his own hands.

“Chloe,” he says, low and warm, and she shudders, full-body. Oh. That’s a fun trick. He’ll have to remember that for later when he can think straight because right now she’s tugging the tails of his shirt out of his pants and her thighs are locked tight around his waist.

“Why do you wear so many layers?” Chloe asks him, perturbed, as she tries to pull off his vest and shirt at the same time, and managing neither. “Skin,” she says, “I want your skin.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Lucifer hitches a hand under her thigh, just as the elevator dings. Instead of getting undressed, he carries her to the bar counter. It’s the perfect height, and Chloe claims his mouth again, as she attacks his buttons with renewed vigor.

She kisses him like she wants to eat him alive, and Lucifer lets himself be devoured. A lady who knows what she wants is a lady that is not to be denied, and who is he to curtail Chloe’s clearly mutually satisfactory plans? She keeps kissing him as she shoves his shirt off his shoulders and then trails her hands across them.

He breaks the kiss deliberately, pulling away to look into her eyes. “Detective,” he says, and she looks up at him. Her lips are kiss-swollen and red, and her hair tousled around her shoulders.

“Yes, Lucifer?” she asks, letting her arms drape around his neck.

“I think you’ll find that I’m winning.”

Chloe’s eyes widen, then narrow, and then she laughs. She throws her head back and laughs, and Lucifer feels something like he’s never felt before bubbling up out of his chest, and instead of letting it spill out into words, he tugs her off the counter, walks backward down the stairs (sure-footed) and drops them both onto the couch.

A lapful of warm, willing woman is not an unusual occurrence for him, but this is the Detective, and she’s kissing him breathless and her hands are sliding through his hair, and he’s got his fingers tangled in the weight of her own, and he could stay like this for hours (or at least until he can get his legs back under him).

“You sure about that?” Chloe asks, and the wicked glint in her eyes is all the warning Lucifer has before she’s grinding down over him, and he drops his head back, barely catching the helpless noise that rises in the back of his throat. His hands find her hips, and he grounds himself in the contrast of the rucked up dress and her smooth skin.

“My turn,” he growls, and before she can do anything about it, he’s got her spread beneath him, his body pressed along the length of hers. Chloe sighs. Lucifer takes advantage, and presses open-mouthed kisses to all the skin he can reach - her temple, the apple of her cheek, the line of her jaw, the join of her neck, the gently rising slope of her decolletage. Chloe’s hands find his hair when he nuzzles at her breast, and she tugs him back up to her mouth.

Chloe surrenders under his mouth, and it makes him draw the kiss back, makes him prop himself up on flat hands and look down at her. Chloe looks up at him, and she raises an eyebrow. “Why are you stopping?” she asks. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Lucifer answers quickly, “nothing. Sorry. Just–”

Chloe’s eyes change from teasing to concerned. “Lucifer, talk to me.”

“It’s nothing, truly,” Lucifer says. He traces a gentle finger along the side of her face, “I’ve just forgotten to tell you how lovely you look tonight.”

Chloe flushes prettily. “Thanks,” she says, “now how about you take me to bed?”

“Oh, Detective,” Lucifer practically purrs, “I thought you’d never ask.”

They stumble to his bed together, hand in hand and kiss-drunk.

Lucifer tumbles Chloe down onto his sheets, and none of his previously imagined fantasies could possibly beat the real thing; they couldn’t possibly stack up against the way she writhes under him, the way her dress rides up her thighs, the way she grabs him and holds on tight.

Lucifer rolls them over so he can reach the zipper of her dress and Chloe shivers as he unzips her and then pulls the straps down over her arms. “My, my, Detective,” he says, as the bodice of the dress slips down and there’s nothing underneath. “Planning ahead, were we?”

“You know me,” she says, as she rolls off him and then stands to slip the dress off completely, “always prepared.”

“A regular girl scout, you are,” Lucifer says, with a grin. He reaches for her. Chloe lets him draw her down. She’s entirely un-self conscious, and Lucifer is pleased by the way her own eyes heat as she watches him take a good, long look. “Gorgeous,” he decides, and then leans up to kiss her again.

Chloe’s hands drift down his spine, and when she reaches his belt, she tugs. “Why are you still dressed?” she asks, while Lucifer’s mouth trails hot and wet across the slope of her shoulder.

Lucifer is not the kind of man who keeps a lady waiting, unless she has specifically asked, so he lifts off her and shucks his pants. He stands still for a moment while Chloe looks him over. She licks her lips, and then hums, low and sultry. Lucifer is very aware that he is a fairly attractive specimen, but something about the way Chloe’s gaze sharpens, and the way her smile ticks over to just this side of hungry, makes him want to preen. He stifles the impulse, and instead rejoins her in bed.

Chloe reaches for him, and Lucifer resists her pull, making her come to him instead. She rises up onto her knees, and they come together in a kiss that makes him wonder if the fires of Hell were really properly hot. He strokes his hands along her sides, feeling the gentle curve of her hips and then up to the soft weight of her breasts. Chloe gasps into his mouth when he pinches her nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they stand at attention.

“Sensitive, detective?” Lucifer says, and Chloe pinches his side, making him twitch away from her. She takes advantage, and turns the tables, pressing him back into the bed. Lucifer goes, willingly, and Chloe follows him down, her mouth on his. They kiss, languid and like they have all the time in the world, and his hands trail up and down her spine, eliciting shivers as they go.

The kiss deepens, and heats up as Chloe presses herself against the length of him. This is all going to be over in a matter of moments if he doesn’t get ahold of himself, and get ahold of himself he must, because he has a reputation to uphold. Lucifer’s hands still on her waist, bare skin warm beneath his fingers and Chloe breaks the kiss to look down at him quizzically.

He thinks that next time, he might make sure to put white sheets on the bed, and wake her up as the sun rises and watch the way it turns her hair into a halo while she rises over him. But this time, this time he wants to roll her under him and make that pretty mouth fall open around his name. Heat pools at the base of his spine at the thought of her voice, wrecked and wanting, and his name in broken syllables–

Lucifer growls, surging up and turning them over, pinning Chloe’s hands over her head. He looks down at her, she’s wide-eyed and for a moment he’s worried he’s startled her, but then she tilts her hips and he slides against her, and her eyes drop shut and she arches her neck. She bites her lip. Lucifer grins, and then buries his face in her neck.

She smells like herself - peaches and a hint of the sea. Lucifer inhales. He would be content to rest here, the warmth of her body next to his, the scent of her hair in his nose - but beneath him, Chloe is restive. “Patience is a virtue, darling,” he scolds, raising his head so he can see her face.

“When have you ever been patient?” Chloe complains, without heat, and Lucifer can’t contain the laugh that bubbles up out of his chest.

“I’ll have you know,” he says, as he lets go of her wrists, “that I am  _very_  patient.” He leans in to kiss her.

“Well,” Chloe says, breaking the kiss after a long moment of sensory overload, “I’m not.”

“Pushy, pushy,” Lucifer chides, but he’s already moving. He maps her body with his hands, mouth following in their wake. Chloe is not a passive lover, and she moves with him, reaching down between them to take him in hand. When her fingers close around him, Lucifer bites his lip, when she squeezes, then slowly slides her hand base to tip, his head drops to her chest.

Chloe’s other hand comes down, and her fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face down into her breasts and Lucifer takes the hint. He lavishes one and then the other with attention, and watches the way her head drops back and she bites her lip when he uses his teeth.

“Like that?” Lucifer asks, knowing full well that she does. Chloe doesn’t grace him with an answer, and so Lucifer goes back to the task at hand and slides his hand down and down and finds the wet heat of her centre.

“Lu –  _ah_  – Lucifer,” Chloe moans.

There’ve been many ways he’s heard his name, but he decides that the way Chloe has just said it, is probably the best use of those particular phonemes. He wastes no time in trying to get her to do it again. Lucifer’s fingers slide easily in her slick heat, and he circles her clit, drawing a breathy moan from Chloe as he does.

“Fuck,” Chloe gasps, and then rolls onto her side, toppling him off her as she does, and then she reaches between them to find his cock again. Lucifer’s hand stays busy between her legs and he cradles the back of her head with his other, drawing her in for a sloppy kiss. There’s a fumbling moment when Chloe knocks his hand out of the way with hers, but he hisses in appreciation when she closes wet fingers around his length.

Chloe jacks him slowly but surely, and their hands brush together each time they move. Lucifer can feel the tension building at the base of his spine. Chloe arches into him, burying her face in his neck, and he can feel her shuddering every time his finger slips over her clit.

He rolls them back over and lines up, thrusting home in a smooth slide that makes them both moan. Chloe’s legs come up around his hips and Lucifer knows he should move, but here, here is where he wants to stay. He stays still, but Chloe doesn’t. She’s already moving under him, and it’s that that jolts him back to awareness and then he moves.

“Chloe,” he says, “damn it, Chloe.” She answers him with a roll of her hips that makes him shudder, and punches the air out of his lungs in a gasping exhale. There are words on the tip of his tongue, words he wonders if now is too soon to say, or if there will be a better moment than this, but he buries them instead, underneath another shuddering gasp and hopes Chloe can parse the meaning.

“C’mon Lucifer,” Chloe says, and he does. He holds himself up, and snaps his hips forward. Chloe gasps, and then her hands are on his shoulders, the sweet prick of her nails in his skin goading him on. They find their rhythm quickly, and Chloe matches him, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. “Yeah, yeah,” she pants, “just like that.”

“De – _Chloe_ ,” Lucifer groans, as Chloe tightens around him. They’re both racing for the finish now, and Lucifer reaches between them, fingers searching for and finding their target, and then Chloe is taut everywhere else and her head drops back and Lucifer watches as she falls apart. Her eyes flare wide, and she keens, high and wild, Lucifer thinks he’s never seen her so glorious.

It’s that that does it, and he’s gone himself - over the edge and no turning back, his face buried in her neck, and her thighs around him. Lucifer thrusts through his orgasm, while Chloe trails a soft hand up and down the line of his spine. She’s gone nearly boneless beneath him now, and curls up into him when he finally sinks down onto his elbows.

They’re both breathless, and he can feel Chloe’s heart hammering in her chest, the same as his. “Well,” he says, breaking the silence. Chloe groans luxuriously, and stretches her arms up over her head, arching underneath him, and the change in angle of her hips makes Lucifer hiss. He rolls off her, but doesn’t go far, flopping onto his back beside her.

“Well, what?” Chloe asks, rolling onto her side, and then settling against him, so her head is pillowed on his shoulder.

Lucifer looks down at her, hair tousled from his pillows, and he lifts his arm, shifting so he can wrap it around her shoulders. Chloe resettles herself more closely against his side, but only for a moment. “Lemme up,” she says, shaking off his arm.

“Detective, wha–?”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Chloe says, and then rolls out of bed. Lucifer takes a moment to appreciate the view when she bends over to pick up his shirt, and then another one after she tugs it on and buttons it haphazardly. It hangs just long enough to cover everything, but she hasn’t buttoned it up all the way so it gapes when she leans down to kiss him, then she’s gone and into his ensuite.

While she’s busy, Lucifer gets up and remakes the bed, finding the pillows they threw on the floor in their haste, and picks up his clothes, only to toss them over the chair in the corner. He’ll deal with those in the morning. Chloe comes back just as he’s contemplating whether or not a nightcap is in order, and she slides her arms around his waist from behind.

“You’re still naked,” she says, into his shoulder, and he huffs a laugh.

“Why, your powers of deduction astound me, Detective.”

Chloe flicks him in the back of the head. “Nightcap?” she asks, and walks down the steps from his bedroom towards the bar. Lucifer follows behind her, having found a pair of boxers and pulled on his robe. Chloe is still wearing nothing but his shirt, which rides up and shows off the curve of her ass as she reaches for a bottle on a higher shelf to pour them both a dram. Lucifer ogles her unashamedly, and when Chloe catches him looking, she does a little wriggle that makes Lucifer wonder if she’d be up for another round, right now.

Drinks poured, she picks up both glasses, holding them between the fingers of one hand and carries the bottle with the other. She heads for the door to the balcony. Lucifer follows. It’s a nice night, they can sit outside, under the night sky, such that it is in this town of never-ending lights pollution.

Chloe sets down her cargo carefully, and then picks up her drink before settling down into one of the lounge chairs. Lucifer leans down to gather his own glass, and then leans against the railing, facing away from the view. The night breeze is gentle, and the sounds of the city are far away. Chloe sips her whiskey, and Lucifer watches her.

“I have to say, Detective,” Lucifer begins, “I wasn’t expecting to end up here tonight.”

“Are you complaining?” Chloe asks, and it’s quick, but Lucifer catches the flash of insecurity in her eyes. He moves towards her, sitting on the lounge chair beside hers, facing her, glass cradled in his hands between his knees.

“Never,” he says, catching her eyes with his. “I could never regret you, Chloe.” Chloe’s eyes widen, and then she smiles, and Lucifer thinks this smile is his favourite of them all. He lets the silence hang between them for a long moment. “Will you stay?” he asks, and Chloe nods.

“Of course,” she says, “always.”


End file.
